


Falling Through a Broken Mirror

by QuintessenceA



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Bodyswap, I'm Bad At Tagging, Swapfell Papyrus (Undertale), UTSans in Swapfell
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-25
Updated: 2019-07-23
Packaged: 2019-08-29 01:24:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16734366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuintessenceA/pseuds/QuintessenceA
Summary: Everything was going fine until the machine exploded. Well, as fine as it could be with everyone dead, anyway. For Sans, it just keeps getting better. Slim never saw it coming.Deep in the Void, the man who speaks in hands meets a monster who sees without eyes.





	1. Boom goes the time machine

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a fun idea I've been playing with that I'd like to turn into a full story based on the single scene from chapter 2 of my Angstober drabbles, Something Oddly Sweet. I asked myself, which pair of skeletons would be the most miserable together?

The first two things Sans realized when he woke up were that one, he had a headache the size of the Underground, and two, he was on fire. It wasn't the first time he'd been on fire. Probably wouldn't be the last either. Thinking quickly, he tucked into a ball and began rolling on the concrete floor of his basement. In a moment the fire was out, and he leaped to his feet, hoping the machine was ok this time. No such luck, it was on fire too. Cursing under his breath, he yanked the power cord from the wall before looking around for the fire extinguisher, only to find it in the opposite corner from where it should be.

Stars, how hard had he hit his head? With clumsy hands he grabbed the fire extinguisher and aimed it at the machine... but now that was in the wrong corner as well. Smoke was filling the air, but he didn't think it was enough to disorient him that much.

“shit!” He turned and aimed it at the machine. With a hiss, the CO2 discharged and a white cloud enveloped the machine. The fire died, and Sans scowled down at the partially melted wreckage, now lit only by the basement's dim florescent light filtering down through the haze.

The entire left side of the machine was charred and blackened, with an impressive series of scorch marks radiating out from the outlet on the wall. Irritation flared inside Sans's skull and with a rising whine, a blaster formed over his shoulder, aiming right for the machine.

“wait, what? no!” he yelled, dismissing the blaster with a wave. He hadn't meant to do that. Stars, he had such a headache. And he just felt. So. ANGRY.

He brought his hand up to rub against his face, and froze, staring at his phalanges. Since when was he wearing gloves? It wasn't just the gloves, he realized, looking down at himself. He was wearing... armor? It looked like Papyrus's battle body, but these shoulder guards were definitely not a costume.

The lights above him flickered, and then went out, plunging the room in darkness. Great, and there was the Core overload, right on time as the electricity that no longer powered the machine back-washed through what was left of Snowdin's power grid.

Alphy's was probably going to kill him this time, since the machine failed to do it properly. Maybe he could get her to look at his head before she did, he thought to himself as he climbed the stairs... on the wrong side of the room. Why was he so twisted around?

He opened the door at the top of the stairs and stepped out into the over bright Snowdin day. The light off the pristine snow seemed to gouge deep into his eye sockets, driving his headache into new, previously unknown levels of pain. With everyone dead, it seemed wrong for the day to be so bright. He turned to the left, intending to walk around to the front of the house, but found himself facing the woods behind it instead.

It wasn't just his headache. He turned back to stare. The lab door was on the wrong side of the house.

“m'lord! you're alright!” A familiar voice yelled, followed by the sound of running footsteps against snow. No, it wasn't possible. Papyrus?! He spun around, just in time to be bowled over by the tall skeleton. “where'd you go? i was so worried!” They landed in the snow in a heap, and Sans clutched desperately at his brother.

“papyrus! oh my god, papyrus! how are you here?” Tears filled his eye sockets as he held tight to the long black jacket Papyrus wore. “stars, i don't care! papyrus, you're-” he pulled back, cutting off as he finally got a good look at the other monster's face. At the cracked skull and a single gold fang. “...you're not papyrus.”

The NotPapyrus cocked his head to the side. “m'lord?”

With a violent shove, Sans pushed the other away and stood up. Too fast, his head spinning as magic rushed to his skull. He placed his gloved fingers over his left eye, where the pain was spiking, and squinted at the skeleton. In size and shape, he looked like Papyrus, but that face… "who are you?"

"it's me, papyrus," he said, reaching his arms out like he wanted to pull Sans back into them. The end of each phalange was sharpened into wicked looking claws. "…who else would I be?"

Sans didn't know, but at this point, he'd officially had enough. He needed to get to Alphys, and he needed to get there immediately. Reaching out, he pulled for a shortcut- only to have it spit him into the snow only a few steps from where he started. He stumbled, wondering if his skull was cracking from the pain. It certainly felt like it was. 

Whiteness filled his vision as he passed out, but that might just be the snow that rushed up to meet him.

***

"A foolish risk."

"Tra la la. The waters are wild today."

"Still, you should know better."

"What was, was. What will be, will be."

"Tsk. Of course."

***

Sans really did not want to wake up. His Soul cried out that something was wrong, terribly wrong, but at that hazy moment he couldn't remember what. He just wanted to sleep. The bed was warm, the pillow soft against his bones. 

With a sudden jolt of adrenaline, he realized that was exactly the problem. He didn't own either of those things. 

Jerking upright, he looked around. The room he found himself in was richly decorated, if a bit sparse of furniture, with lush velvet curtains on the window. The four post bed was massive, taking up most of the floor space. There were two doors, one just off the foot of the bed and another by the window. Lying in the corner under a wicked looking pirate flag was a set of armor. The same weird armor that he had been wearing before. 

He wasn't wearing anything now. Did that other monster fucking undress him?! 

Sans figured that should fill him with some sort of fear. It didn't. Instead, it just made him angry. It had been a long, long night. He'd (once again) worked the whole night through on the machine. The sheets bunched under his fists as he remember just how close to success he had been… right before it had exploded on him. Stars, he'd really thought he had been onto something that time! 

The sound of a knob twisting was his only warning before the door swung open and the NotPapyrus walked in, holding a food tray with a covered dish. 

Sans pulled the sheet up, covering his bones and glaring as he watched the tall monster set the tray on the bed. Sans held his magic tight, ready to lash out if the other tried anything. He shouldn't have bothered, the NotPapyrus didn't even so much as look at him. 

With a bow, NotPapyrus backed out of the room, shutting the door behind him.

Sans didn't think he'd ever been this confused in his life. What was this, some kind of kidnapping? Was the food poisoned, or drugged then? The smell coming from the tray was amazing, like spiced ham and eggs, and Sans couldn't remember the last time he'd eaten. It wouldn't hurt just to look at what it was, right?

Dropping the sheet, he grabbed the lid on the tray- only to throw it away violently as he caught sight of his phalanges. Of his CLAWS.

He scooted away from the tray, up and over the pillows, as if he could escape from his own hands. One claw gripped into the headboard, and Sans could feel the tips digging into the wood as he flexed his other hand. His could feel his browbone furrowing as he stared, the bone above his left eye feeling stiff. Someone was screwing with him. That had to be it.

He was mad. Stars damnit, he was furious. That was wrong too, his temper never flared like this. 

"what the actual fuck is going on?!" He growled. There was something wrong with his voice. With a growing sense of alarm he summoned his tongue, and gently pressed it against his teeth. They were all fangs. Even the molars were-

There was a knock at the door, and he flinched, biting down on his tongue. "shit-!" He hissed, and clapped a hand across his mouth, dismissing the appendage.

"m'lord? are you-"

"fuck off!" He screamed at the door. He didn't have time to play kidnapper and victim right now. 

"yes, m'lord," the NotPapyrus called, and the door remained shut. Somehow, that had worked. 

The machine. It HAD to be something the machine did. He needed to get back to it, NOW. 

Scrambling out of the bed, Sans grabbed for the armor. It wasn't like he was swimming in options. Pants first, he decided. 

More like hot pants. With a sigh, he pulled on the very short black shorts. Had he really been wearing these before? For crying out loud, they didn't even cover his pelvis properly!

Shaking his head, he skipped the shoulder guards, taking only the shirt. The bottom was short, barely covering his ribs. Well, that was indecent. There was a red scarf also, but he couldn't think of any way to use it to cover his exposed center, so he just put it in his inventory.

The high top boots and ridiculous gloves finished the ensemble, choosing to leave the gaudy spiked belt behind. Sans felt like a half naked idiot in this.

It was good enough though. Sans began to run through his options as he walked to the window. He didn't want to meet up with that NotPapyrus again, but he couldn't take a shortcut from here. The destination was only half of the equation, he had to know where he was starting from.

Pushing aside the drapes, he stared out at Snowdin Town. Or something like it, at least. It was backwards. Houses and trees that should have been to the left were now to the right, and vice versa. Sans blinked stupidly, rubbing his eyesockets. The bone above his left eye tweaked sharply at the rough treatment, and he touched at it gently, feeling a deep gouge in the surface.

Stars damnit, he did crack his skull after all. He wondered it it was affecting his eyesight, but dismissed that as unlikely. There was something bigger at play here. At the very least he couldn't afford to shortcut like this. Best case scenario is that the void would simply spit him immediately back out. Worse case would be that it didn't.

He needed to get out and find his machine. That was the solution here. Walking to the door, he yanked it open- only to immediately slam it in the face of the NotPapyrus, who was standing in the hallway directly on the other side.

His Soul thudded harshly in his chest. Sans couldn't handle it, the sight of that other skeleton sent a wave of pure fury running through him. Not because the asshole had apparently kidnapped him, but because of the busted face the imposter wore.

Who the hell was that guy to look so much like his brother? Why was he just standing there in Sans's hallway? Sans stared numbly at the door as the realization sunk in. HIS hallway.

When he had opened the door it had opened to his hallway. The same one he saw every morning. He took a closer look around the room. He hadn't noticed it before, but it was obvious now. This room was a mirror image of Papyrus's room. Just like the town.

An alternate version. Sans felt his marrow run cold with pure, unmitigated horror. The machine had worked after all. Only it hadn't sent him to an earlier timeline. 

It sent him to an alternate one.


	2. Cosplay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that he has a clue, its time for Sans to blend in with the crowd.

It was going to be okay, he told himself. Or at least something like it. Sans was a smart monster (at least when it came to the sciences) and he could figure this out. Top priority was to get the machine working again. That was the way home. If he could do it without disrupting the natural order of this timeline, so much the better. No need to find answers to difficult questions if no one had any questions to ask. 

It was like when the resets first happened. He needed to find out when he was, what was going on and play his part. Learn, react, adapt. Just with a couple… well, a whole lot of unknown variables. 

So, what did he know? 

The machine had been damaged by fire, and the power had gone out. He was in some twisted around version of his house in Snowdin, by layout if nothing else. It was obvious that whoever decorated this room preferred quality over quantity. The same could be said about the clothes he was wearing. Not much quantity there, but the material was pretty nice. 

Outside the door was… No. That wasn't Papyrus. Sans scowled at the floor, thinking about the mistake he'd made before. That monster may have Papyrus's name and face, but there was only one true Papyrus and he would never, ever allow anyone to take that place. He felt a growl tightening his throat. 

And, oh yes, there was another detail. Something was seriously wrong with his emotional control. There was a small pang of shame as he remembered how he'd cussed out the NotPapyrus. But then again, the NotPapyrus hadn't even reacted. It was like he was used to it. And he had called Sans his "Lord". Whoever these two were, there was a good chance they weren't even brothers.

All in all, not a whole lot to go by. 

Trying to keep his expectations low, Sans reached over and experimentally flicked on the light switch. The light overhead remained dark. Still no power. He squeezed his nasal ridge, and let out a hissing sigh. No power to the house meant no power to the machine. Looks like he was going on a field trip to the Lab. 

At least he'd be able to shortcut back. Speaking of…

His attempt to teleport earlier had been a disaster. It was obvious now exactly why that was, this universe was in a completely different location than his own and his coordinates didn't match. With no small amount of concentration, he closed his eyes and pulled, drawing forth not on his magic, but from the source that powered his shortcuts. He felt for the places in between, and for the numbers that ruled time and space. It wasn't the Void, exactly, but it touched it.

Focusing on his position in the universe, he watched the number fluctuate in his mind's eye as the planet, the solar system, the galaxy itself all rotated around the center of the universe. Layer by layer he pulled back, narrowing his focus until he could track just the Underground, and his position relative to that alone.

Finally, he made note of his coordinates in space along an X, Y and Z axis. With a start, he realized that the numbers were not quite as different as he had expected. They were remarkably close, in fact, as if his personal X axis alone has been swapped over zero. Everything in his memory from taking shortcuts in his own universe told him that the spot where he was standing now should match to a place somewhere on the border between Hotland and Waterfall.

Now for the fun part. After all, it wasn't true science if no one risked their life to the Void. Maybe it would even spit him back out into his own universe. Hey, while he was making impossible wishes he might as well wish to drop into his own living room. Where Papyrus would be waiting, with a big plate of terrible, wonderful spaghetti. Sighing, he walked to the corner of the room, opened a shortcut and stepped through-

-only to step out right in the center of the room, exactly where he'd taken his measurements. He looked over to the tray on the bed, scowling at it as if he expected it to pull out a knife. It looked like wishes wouldn't be coming true today.

Back to Plan A then. Alphys and the lab.

If he was going to interact with the locals, he was going to need to blend in. And that meant looking like he belonged there. In the ridiculous clothes this guy would wear. He groaned.

Shooting an irritated look at the spiky belt and shoulder pads he wondered of that supposed to be intimidating. There was a small struggle as he tried to figure out left from right on the shoulder guards. He tapped on them for a minute, feeling his new claws pull on the inside of the gloves. The points were distracting, like a loose tooth, and he couldn't stop messing with them. 

Running his gloves along the armor he noticed a burn mark blackening the lower edge of one. That must be the arm he'd burned when he'd first woken up in front of the machine. Funny how so much it happened since then that he had actually forgotten he's been on fire. He checked over his bones, finding a patch on his left arm that was tender and slightly flushed with magic. It stopped abruptly where the glove met his arm, although the glove itself was pristine. 

How had the guard and his arm both receive burns but his glove was fine? Were they some sort of fireproof material? Were they- He forcefully cut himself off. This was about the most useless thing he could be worrying about right now. Putting that thought aside as a mystery to ponder later, Sans worked to settle the guards on his shoulders, confident now as to which was which.

At least Undyne wasn't here to see this, he thought as he carefully threaded the weird belt through the belt loops on his pants. She'd probably laugh herself into a coma. How did the guy manage to do this with the spikes on it anyway? It took a while, but finally, he clasped the skull buckle and the belt was on. 

Opening his inventory, he pulled out the final piece. The red scarf. It was obviously handmade. Papyrus's scarf. Lying red in the snow as the Anomaly-

No. That was neither here or now. Sans blinked, feeling the sting of tears in his sockets. Getting back home was the problem now. 

He put the scarf up to his neck and hesitated. This wasn't his. Well, none of it was, technically, but the rest were just clothes. This was special. But he needed to blend in. 

Slowly, he wrapped it around his neck, his Soul lurching sideways in his chest as he remembered all of the times he'd helped his brother do the very same thing. Tears began to well up in his eyes again, and he blinked them away furiously as he tied it behind his head. It was more difficult to do at this angle, and the knot didn't feel very secure when he was done, but it was good enough.

Feeling a need to gather himself, Sans took a moment to glance at the rest of his inventory. Besides the clothes, he found that he was carrying a few pieces of monster candy, a handful of G, and a whip.

A weapon. That was surprising. Maybe he had fallen into the life of some strange cowboy? He'd go outside to find that he was Sheriff of Snowdin. His grin twitched upwards sardonically. Him? In charge of keeping the town peace? Now that was a joke.

He tried to catch a glimpse of his reflection in the window. It kind of look like he was pulling off a bitchy cosplay of his brother. 

"It's not a phase, Dad," Sans mumbled with a smirk, fingering the fabric around his neck. The smile fell as his fingers passed over a hard spot. Lifting the spot into his line of sight, he saw a burn mark. 

It wasn't large, at least when compared to the one on the shoulder guard, but until this moment Sans had hoped the scarf had escaped damage. Damn. Chances were pretty good that it meant as much to this guy as Papyrus's scarf meant to him. Wrecking his dimensional double's stuff was certainly a great way to start inner universal relations.

But it wasn't like there was much Sans could do about it right now. Except move forward, and he was as ready as he'd ever be. He gave one final glance across the room, eyelights pausing a long moment on the discarded food tray. Hunger had disappeared in the face of this new crisis, but he doubted it would be kept at bay indefinitely. 

Well, he was in Snowdin. He didn't think his double would mind if he hit up Grillby's later if he got hungry.

Out of excuses to delay, Sans stepped up to the bedroom door, and pulled it open.


	3. A Nice Chat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans gets some face to face time with his brother's lookalike, and heads down to the ferry.

The lock clicked, and Sans pushed the door open to reveal an empty hallway. No sign of anyone that looked like his brother lurking upstairs. 

He let out a sigh of relief. It was going to be fine. He just had to reach the lab, get Alphys to fix the power, grab a couple things, and he'd be ready to jump right back into undoing whatever he'd done wrong in the first place. 

The hallway, as he suspected, looked just like a mirror of his own. The only real difference was the scent of maple syrup hanging in the air. Cautiously, Sans moved up to the balcony, looking over to see the NotPapyrus sitting quietly on the couch. Just like the bedroom, the floor plan was backward. The couch was where it was supposed to be, but it wasn't the old green sofa he knew. This one was sleek and black, probably leather. 

Somewhere along the way the NotPapyrus had discarded that long black jacket with the weird fluffy hood and was now in just a red sweater with a brown collar and jeans. It made him look awfully slim in a way that Sans found unsettling. Papyrus always seemed larger than life, both in his excessive energy and in his choice of clothes. Things like his battle body and those MTT fashion basketballs that he loved so much just called out to make Papyrus the center of attention.

But this guy, he was just… sitting there. Quietly. Like he was fine to simply blend into the background. A side character. Weird.

Sans watched as he worked on a pair of gloves, one in his lap, the other carefully receiving a patch along its cuff. A black scorch mark marred the edge, now mostly hidden by the patchwork. The small repetitive stitch movements were almost hypnotizing to watch, as the tall monster held the threaded needle delicately between two claws. Sharp, dangerous looking claws that were just like the new set Sans was wearing, if a bit longer.

Even from this distance Sans could see that the stitches were perfect and precise, without wasted effort or thread. It was nothing like how Papyrus had sewn, with large, overeager passes that needed to be covered with three times more thread than it should have taken. Which of course, took more time to stitch back over to properly strengthen than if he'd just done it more carefully in the first place... That was normal though, that was Papyrus. This was NotPapyrus.

Sans looked to the front door. He was going to have to pass by the weird, slim skeleton. Not a chance he'd make it by unnoticed. He wondered again if the guy who's body he was borrowing was that guy's brother. It was possible, probable even, and Sans didn't know if he could pass himself off in that role. What does the guy do when he's with his brother? Smile? Joke? Frown? Ignore him completely? 

What if they had been fighting? That might explain why this NotPapyrus seemed like such a downer. Or maybe that was his normal?

Sighing, Sans put his face to a neutral line and headed down the staircase. There were just too many variables to make any sort of informed decision, but he needed to reach that door regardless. He'll just play it by ear, so to speak. When Sans reached the carpeted floor at the bottom the NotPapyrus stopped his sewing. 

Sans paused, but the other didn't look up. He realized then that the brown collar wasn't actually part of the sweater. It was a dog collar. The monster was actually wearing a dog collar. Minus one to the brother possibility, he supposed. Neither spoke.

Sans felt that he should be glad. If the NotPapyrus doesn't initiate conversation, then Sans doesn't have to deal with him. And he doesn't want to get involved. This isn't his brother. It's just a cheap copy. The crack above his eye gives a spark of pain as he narrows his eyes.

After everything he'd done to see Papyrus again, this is what he gets? This skinny, gold-fanged lookalike that just sits there? That won't even say anything?

The quiet was beginning to grate on Sans's nerves, and that unfamiliar anger was rising again. It was a cold anger, seeping into his bones and threatening to crack him open, to spill poison over anyone who dared be in range. He had to get out of here before he snapped. 

As if sensing his resolve, the NotPapyrus glanced up. He wouldn't quite meet Sans's eye lights, instead concentrating on the scarf around his neck. Sans saw him falter as he focused on where Sans was pretty sure he'd messed up the knot. "My lord…?" he asked slowly, carefully, like he know Sans was a soulbeat away from a screaming rage. 

"…yes?" It was obviously a title, and it obviously belonged to him. Sans wondered if he was supposed to reply to the NotPapyrus with some similar title of his own.

"A-are…" The other monster began. He started to fidget, ever so slightly, claws reflexively tightening against the objects in his hand. "Are you… going…?" He trailed off. A trickle of rusty orange magic began to drip from one fist, spreading onto his pant leg. Well, that makes it easy to guess which hand held the needle.

Sans scowled, he didn't have time to throw away playing this waiting game. He had things to do. Ignoring the botched attempt at speech, Sans shook his head and stalked to the door. It didn't open on the first try, and Sans realized the deadbolt was engaged. Struggling, he had to adjust his hold to account for the length of his fingertips as he turned the-

"Are you going out?"

So he could get a full question out. Too bad it was such a stupid one. "yeah. I am," he said, turning back with a glare for the other, only to find him staring Sans in the eyelights this time.

In his body, his face, and his mannerisms it was easy to separate his brother from the very different monster in front of him. But now that he was looking at Sans, those eyes… Those were Papyrus's eyes. And he was hurting. Sans was hurting him.

It was uncanny how very… Papyrus… he looked at that moment. That look was the one Papyrus wore when his anxieties got the best of him. It meant he knew exactly how stupid of a question it was, but he couldn't stop himself from reaching out anyway. It was a plea for Sans to help him because he doesn't know how to help himself. Guilt, sudden and sharp made Sans pause. 

"i'm going to see Alphys," he added. The urge to sooth away Papyrus's fear was almost overwhelming. "i'll be back soon." Damn it, this wasn't Papyrus. He knows this. He shouldn't let the other get to him like this.

The other Papyrus's eye sockets when wide with a mix of shock and fear. "B-but what about your hp?!" 

Oh, that did it. Quick as a slap, the anger returned. The other monster must have Checked him while he was out.

"yeah? what about it?" Sans hissed. So he wanted to go there, did he? Sans had heard this argument since he was a kid. He was "delicate". He had to be "careful". He had grown sick of it years ago. It irked him enough how often the real Papyrus treated him with kid gloves (just a tad too gently, always) and there was no way he'd let this Papyrus even think about controlling what Sans did or did not do. It really didn't even matter if this body he was stuck in was supposed to have more than 1 HP or not.

Immediately the tall skeleton's gazed dropped back to the floor, and the illusion was shattered. 

"Apologies, m'lord." Once again it wasn't his brother anymore. It was just this other monster. One Sans didn't know and didn't care about.

One he couldn't stand to be around.

Sans wanted to scream. He had to get out of this house. Fiercely gripping the deadbolt, the threw it back with gritted teeth. Without looking back, he opened the door and stepped outside. The monster didn't say another word.

The cold of Snowdin was a comfortable shock to his system. Sans took in a deep breath of the chill winter air, desperate for the comfort of familiar surroundings to calm him down. Immediately, a coughing fit seized at his chest as his throat caught on the taste of dust. Sans had become much too familiar with it over the last few resets to mistake it for anything else.

Something inside told him it wasn't the Anomaly's fault this time. This dust was old, stale.

All the more reason to get the hell out of here as fast as possible. The fastest way to Hotlands was by ferry. Assuming this place has a ferry, and a ferryman to run it. One way to find out, and Sans turned right, towards the center of town.

Only to find he was facing the wrong way. Instead, he was looking into a field of white as snow swirled in the air above the path out of town. It was too thick to be certain, but he was pretty sure he could make out the caves of Waterfall on the other side. Apparently the weird floor switching wasn't contained to the house. 

This was going to take a while to wrap his head around. Sans turned around, back towards the Librarby.

Or, at least what was left of it.

Feeling that spike of anger in his Soul again, Sans tried not to stomp as he walked over to inspect the destruction of the town's knowledge base. The damage was old. Burned timbers stuck up like blackened fingers through the accumulated snowy blanket. The edge of the old sign stuck out at an angle, with only the "rby" remaining. Apparently, someone had taken Fahrenheit 451 a little too close to heart.

Books! It defied common sense. Book were treasures. To think that someone had come here and done this? And what had the town done? Watch?! Sans felt his eye socket twitch, and realized he needed to get a hold of himself. This was right next door to the house. Standing out here like this he might as well just scream, "I've never seen this before, question me!"

With an effort he relaxed his claws. He hadn't even noticed clenching his fist.

He took a deep breath to calm himself, struggling not to choke on the dust again. The sooner he was away from here the better, and he began walking away. Only to realize he was looking away from town. The wrong direction again. A growl rumbled up from the back of his throat. This was getting old.

This time he didn't even try to keep his steps casual as he stalked towards the ferry. He could see Grillby's in the distance. Something about it looked out of place, but he dismissed it as a trick of the weird angle. 

His eye had begun to hurt again. It twinged uncomfortably every time his eyelight neared the crack as he scanned his surroundings. Sans pressed the heel of his hand against his eyesocket, hoping pressure would ease the pain. With the other eye he continued to keep a look out. It was more than just the dust in the air, something seemed wrong here.

There were few monsters out in the street, and those Sans did see were quick to duck into houses or alleys as he passed by. Once he passed by a dog that looked a lot like Lesser Dog, in plain clothes with his tail curled around himself. He resisted the urge to glare, and paused, shocked with himself. Since when did he want to glare down some poor monster who obviously wanted nothing more than to mind their own business? 

It had to be a consequence of the body he was in. Something in this body that was drastically different. And Sans could swear he was smelling maple syrup again. He had hoped it would go away after he left the house, and it had for a while. It must be lingering in his clothes. 

Lost in thought and rubbing his eyesocket, Sans continued to walk until he reached the ferryman's dock. He could have cheered when he saw the cloaked figure, happy that at least SOMETHING in this universe was familiar. Not bothering to look up, Sans stepped on the boat. 

“hotlands,” he commanded as he sat on the hard wooden board that served as a seat.

The boat began to move away from the shore. The rocking was gentle, lulling even as he stared at the wood below his feet. The scent of dusty snow and sweet syrup faded as the boat was carried down the river by the ferryman's efficient piloting. With a sigh, he finally relaxed a little, dropping his phalanges from the crack in his socket. 

Until he caught the flash of a white hand gripping the oar.

The River Person didn't have white hands. Or hands at all, of any color. Sans stared, eyelights locked on the pale white fingers. The brown wood of the oar was visible through the wide hole cut into the back of the palm. Those weren't the River Person's hands, those were…

He lifted his head slowly, fearing to move too quickly. As if that would save you, the quiet voice in his head whispered. That thought and all other fell silent at the sight of the monster's face. There were no cracks marring the smooth white expanse of his face, but there was no mistaking that wide smile, those over-bright black Void eyes. It was HIM.

From under the ferryman's hood, W.D. Gaster smiled down at Sans.

His eyelights disappeared as the sound of popping, hissing static filled the boat, spilling out to echo over the water. It had been years since Sans had heard that sound. A voice he never thought he'd hear again. A voice he had hoped to never hear again.

"Big brothers keep far too many secrets to themselves, don't you think, Sans?"


	4. Taking The Long Way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Looks like Sans won't be taking the Ferry to Hotlands after all. How about a nice romantic stroll through Waterfall instead?

Sans was on a boat. With Gaster. Gaster was alive. In a boat. With him. 

Panic, all-encompassing and animalistic gripped him. It blocked out all thought, and Sans couldn't move, trapped like prey beneath the hawk's cruel gaze. All he could do was stare frozenly back into the wide black eyes of the impossible monster above him.

Gaster, for his part, only watched him in return. No sudden moves, no grabbing hands. Time passed (A minute? A lifetime? An eternity? Sans had no way to tell), and Gaster nodded once, his smile widening even further until it looked as if his face might split in two. He broke eye contact, shifting his gaze past Sans to the river beyond.

It was like a physical weight had been lifted from Sans's Soul. Gasping, he sucked in a breath and grabbed for a shortcut. It was a frantic reach as he sought the only coordinates he knew, fueled only by the immediate need to RUN. The magic crackled around him and Sans heard a staccato glitching noise echoing off the river. As Sans threw himself into the dark of the Void, he realized the sound was laughter. Gaster was laughing.

Sans dropped out of the void, landing on his tailbone in the middle of the bedroom he'd woken up in that morning. He could still hear the laughter ringing in his skull. Panting heavily, he just laid on his back, staring at the ceiling while he waited for his panicky Soul to slow down.

There was quite a long list of things Sans had seen today that he hadn't believed were even possible. After being blown into a new universe, the word impossible should have been purged from his vocabulary.

But still, there was a difference between things that were statistically impossible and things that were so far beyond the realm of imagination that he wouldn't have expected to see them in his wildest nightmares.

Gaster was here. Gaster was alive, and Sans had been within an arm's length of him.

Sans began to laugh, chuckling darkly under his breath. He had to, otherwise he might start screaming. Shoving a fist into his mouth, he bit down hard as the screams threatened anyway.

He remained on the floor for a few moments gathering his thoughts. A small part of his mind warned him that he might be overreacting. The scientist had been wiped from existence, shattered across time and space. That wasn't the sort of thing you could slap a bandage on. 

Desperate for the small hope, Sans tried to reason with himself. This was an alternate universe, right? Even before, Multiverse Theory was sound in principle, and thanks to his unintentional position of guinea pig, now tested. As much as he wanted to be home, this wasn't it. Nothing from his universe was here except for his mind. So technically, that wasn't the monster Sans was so worried about. It made sense, clear, logical sense. Right?

"Sans!?" The trembling cry from downstairs cut through his own worries like a torch beam through fog.

Sans was on his feet and halfway to the door before he remembered where he was. It wasn't Papyrus, that was-

"M'Lord?" 

Him.

There was a note of hysteria in the voice, and with the wooden barrier between them, it was far too easy to imagine Papyrus. The real Papyrus. It made it difficult to hold onto the anger that Sans could still fell simmering just under the surface of his cooling terror.

Despite the questioning cry, the other monster sounded unsure. As if he wasn't entirely sure Sans was there. Sans hadn't meant to come back after all. Maybe he could get out again without the other one noticing. Carefully, he cracked open the door and slipped out. He left the door open, not wanting to give himself away with the click of the latch as he slowly sidled up to the balcony. There were no sounds from the downstairs, and he looked over the railing-

Only to find the other monster staring straight up at him with wide eyesockets. He was wearing his jacket again.

He looked… relieved?

"Sans- m'Lord! I'm so… Wait, what are-" He stopped, tilting his head to the side as he continued to look up at Sans. "Why are you sneaking around?"

Caught red-handed. Guiltily he looked around, eyelights falling on the light switch. "just, uh, trying to see if the power was back on." He flipped the switch. Predictably, nothing happened. "nope." Internally he cringed. Maybe he'd get lucky, and this guy was an idiot. 

From the concerned expression the other wore, that was too much to hope for. "My Lord, please, just tell me what's going on?" 

Frowning, Sans made his way down the stairs for the second time today. "i need to see alphys. that's all."

"For the power?" The NotPapyrus watched him closely as he crossed the living room towards the door. The confusion in his tone was obvious. "Alphys?"

Sans couldn't help but feel like he'd made a crucial misstep somewhere. He reached the door and gave the other monster a glare over his shoulder.

"yeah. Why?" There was more than just a hint of challenge in the question, and it made the other blanch immediately, putting his hands up as if to ward Sans away.

"No, no! If you say she can help you, of course, I know she can! Sorry m'lord." Pulling his hands back towards himself, he asked, "Will- will you be taking the ferry?"

"No!" Sans practically shouted. A shudder ran through his bones. The ferry. That was most certainly out of the question. He wished he could straight up ask this guy about the ferryman, but what sort of lunatic would he be to quiz this guy about everyday occurrences? Who knows, maybe this is just the way it's supposed to be. In fact, it hadn't quite seemed like the Gaster he'd known, had it? No cracks, less... Insane. Or at least he thought so. It was too terrifying to consider otherwise. A world where W. D. Gaster roamed the waterways. No longer contained to the labs and free to travel the Underground where Sans could stumble across him at any point… Any time…

"i'm going to walk." Sans finished belatedly with a shudder.

That took the other monster by surprise. The NotPapyrus gaped, struggling to find words. Sans had the feeling he was going to ask about his HP again, and prepared to rip this judgy asshole a new one if he dared to bring that up again. Instead, in a surprisingly soft voice, he simply asked, "May I at least accompany you through Waterfall?"

Honestly, it was a tempting thought. This monster knew the area and would be able to lead him without suffering the strange flip-flop disorientation that Sans keeps experiencing. But then again, that much contact would make it way too easy to screw up his role. Sans didn't think he had much hope of playing this guy's brother over any sort of long-distance. 

In fact, he was pretty sure he was already failing it rather hard. Nope, best to just do this himself. He turned back to the door, struggling again with the deadbolt.

"no. just stay here." Fuck these locks, and this door in particular. These claws were really getting on his nerves. 

"But, wait! Sans, you can't! Please, let me help you!" 

Sans had reached his limit. This guy just didn't know when to quit pushing, did he? Hearing him call Sans's name, like Sans was his brother, sounding just like Papyrus... He couldn't take it. 

"i don't want your help!" Sans exploded, spitting out words in a fury. "stay here! and leave! Me! ALONE!" 

He finally got the door open and left, slamming it behind him with as much force as he could muster. The sound of the windows rattling in their frames followed him as he stomped out into the snow.

Great. This was all just great. What a joke. It was hilarious, in fact. Sans had no information about anything going on in this world, and he kept trying to rip the head off of the only monster willing to talk to him. 

Sans pinched the bone between his eyes and sighed. Well, he could either do something about that, or ignore it and keep going. Maybe somewhere, in some timeline, there's a Sans that goes back. It's not him.

He turned to face the waterfall caves (correctly this time, he noted with no small amount of pride. Maybe he was getting the hang of this!) and began to walk.

The eternal blizzard raged in this world just as it did in his own, and the chill wind whipped around viciously, changing directions every other second. Sans was far too aware of how exposed his bones were, covered only in meager scraps. There was a good reason he never walked anywhere, even fully clothed. Walking sucks. Really fucking sucks. By the time Sans had reached the halfway point he'd used every swear he'd ever known, and quite a few he'd made up on the spot. 

Reaching the caves was a relief. No more wind. Sans rubbed his arms, trying to chafe a little heat into his bones as he took note of a new set of coordinates. Again, it was almost familiar, even closer to what he expected then the house coordinates. In fact, in his own universe, this set would have put him nearly in the center of Waterfall. 

Sans knew better than to get his hopes up that maybe his shortcuts would get easier, but it was hard. He could use some hope right about now.

Safe from the cleansing wind, the smell of dust was even stronger here in the cave. There had been a lot of death here. As Sans continued deeper into the tunnel he could just make out his old Sentry Station, dimly illuminated by a light magenta glow.

It was coming from an Echo Flower. Or, at least, it looked like an Echo Flower. That someone had continuously watered with blood. What should have been a beautiful cyan hue was now tainted sickeningly purple. Sans wanted to say that his hand didn't shake as he reached out to touch one of the unsettling petals. Sans was a liar.

"Hide the shit, it's the Captain…!" The flower whispered, faithfully repeating the last thing it heard. "Fuck man, run, the Dog's coming too…!"

Huh. He must have just missed this world's version of Undyne. Good thing too, Sans had no interest in trying to explain himself to her. Negative interest, actually. Though it was comforting to know the Dog Squad apparently still patrolled, even if he hadn't seen any of them yet.

Continuing to the Sentry Station, he found it achingly familiar. Same wood, same frame, the only difference seemed to be that the stool inside was taller. Curious, he leaned over the counter and looked underneath.

No condiments, but instead- syrup. What a weirdo. Bottles and bottles of syrup. A few were glass, but most were in plastic bottles. One was an odd shape, and Sans reached in and grabbed it. Turning it around, he cocked a browbone as he realized it was shaped like… a human? 

As he looked at it, he couldn't help but wonder if there were any more similarities to his own station. He unscrewed the cap and took a quick sniff of the contents. Yep, that was definitely maple syrup. High proof maple syrup. 

Sans shook his skull, amused. Maybe whoever held this station wasn't so bad. He wondered if he'd get a chance to meet the guy. It obviously wasn't him in this universe. Placing the bottle back on the shelf, he made a face as he realized his gloves were sticky from touching it. Gross. Gooey ketchup was one thing, but syrup? Stars, he could go for some ketchup right about now.

Well, once he fixed the machine he could get all the ketchup he wanted. He made another note of his coordinates and continued into the gloom.

It had been years since he'd actually walked through Waterfall on foot. Years in the linear sense, not even accounting for the reset loops. As expected, it wasn't long before he got himself lost, struggling with the crazy mirror of the already complicated waterways. Again and again, he was forced to backtrack, hunting for the correct path, only to somehow follow the same set of incorrect ones again. The smell of the syrup on his glove trailed him like an unwanted puppy.

By the time he'd come to the edge of the disproportionately small gap for the third time he'd begun to wish for a nose like one of the dogs. Maybe then he could avoid his own syrupy trail and stop retracing the same paths that went nowhere. Then he'd at least be able to follow brand new false trails instead. 

Much to Sans's disappointment, there was no bird waiting at the small gap. Which only proved that he apparently still had optimism left to be disappointed by. There was no choice but the long way.

That wouldn't have been too bad, Sans had honestly been expecting it, but it was so disturbingly quiet here. There were no conversations shared, happy or otherwise, through the strangely colored echo flowers. No monsters walking around, enjoying the view of the pseudo-star crystals in the ceiling or the gentle babble of the rivers. Even the sound of the flowing water seem too muted. Dirty. Not only was the little bird missing, but he never saw a single other soul.

But he could feel them.

His bones were crawling with a sharp sense of danger, danger every time he passed a dark crevice in the walls. Like every crystal hid a set of eyes watching him. Waiting. Judging. He wasn't welcomed here. He wasn't wanted here.

The only thing Sans couldn't figure out was why no one acted.

He'd never felt this uncomfortable going through waterfall before. Was it just what this place was? Or was it him, the person that he'd become?

And then he saw it. At the end of a corridor, a little yellow flower sprouted from the ground, unfurling its petals as it looked at Sans with a cheery, smiling face.

"Howdy!"


	5. Stop and Smell the Floweys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans talks with a flower, and gets an ax thrown at his head.
> 
> These stupid flowers gave me a hell of a time! But I'm done with them, at least for this chapter. Woo! Big thanks to Sora_Tayuya for the metaphorical kick in the pants to keep progressing this story, your comments have really brought this back to life. And to MsBigBoots, thanks for keeping me motivated, you rock!!

Sans froze, every nerve going on high alert as he stared down the path at the little flower swaying gently in the non-breeze. What the hell was that abomination doing here? It was a goddamn reunion of all his Stars-damned favorite people today, wasn't it?

But much like his last encounter with a nightmare, it wasn't doing much of anything except watching him. And it was wearing something around its stem. Was that a business tie? 

As he watched, there was a disturbance in the ground next to the flower's base and… and a second golden flower pushed up to stand beside the first. Sans was so surprised that he'd have swallowed his tongue if it had been summoned. A few hours ago, it would have been the worst thing imaginable to have more than one of these little bastards in a timeline.

But then he'd met Gaster on the ferry. Things could always get worse. All he needed now was the horrible demon child to show up to complete the set. Quickly he shied away from that thought, focusing back on the flowers. He really didn't need to be summoning that thing with a thought. For all he knew that could be all it takes.

The second flower glanced his way, scowling, and Sans could see that this one didn't have a tie. Instead, attached to its frowning yellow face (by what means Sans couldn't even begin to imagine) it was wearing.. a monocle?? 

Leaning close to the first, the second flower said something too quietly for Sans to make out the words. The tone was harsh, but the first flower continued to smile pleasantly as it listened to its angry friend. 

Sans held his ground, trying to think of another way around and out of Waterfall that didn't involve pushing past these two flowers. It was no use, without a short cut or crossing one of the rivers this was a choke point. 

Finally, the newcomer shot Sans one last scathing glance before retreating once more under the surface. 

He considered risking a teleport. Did he dare trust the limited data he'd gathered so far? He grit his teeth, reluctantly abandoning the idea. Dealing with the flower was at least half a step above Void based suicide. Even if he did get past, what if there were more of those things? Sans shuddered.

"Aww, come on Sans," the flower called. "I won't bite!"

The voice was, in a word, strange. It still had that sicky sweet, "aren't I such a cute little bastard" tone that even in his own universe had made Sans want to rip its petals off, but there was something more. To his surprise, it reminded him of nothing so much as the Temmies back home. 

The flower tilted his head, a curious look in those flat black eyes, and Sans realized he'd just been staring. Well, here goes nothing.

"heya bud," he said taking a few steps forward. He reached his hand behind his back, forming a short bone construct. Nothing obvious, but he'd get first strike if it came down to it. "sorry to leaf you waiting."

The flower's smile faltered, mentally weighing his words. Sans guessed this skeleton didn't tell many jokes. Shame, there were so many good plant jokes, and it didn't look like this guy would appreciate them anymore the the creature back home. He was torn between wanting to play his part correctly and trying to piss off the flower. 

Screw it. He could really, really use the laugh.

"that's quite the withering glare you've got there."

"Well aren't you in a mood today," the flower noted. It was still mostly smiling, but Sans was pleased to see it was getting strained. "Fee is doubled for pulling a weapon."

Fee? Aha, so it was some kind of scam. The ambush at the choke point made a lot more sense. Having been called out for the attack, he pulled it from behind his back, holding it Loosely in his fists at his side. The flower knew his name and obviously expected him to pay. The question was, how was he supposed to figure out what the fee was? Or why?

"double? you can make me a better dill than that."

The little eyes twitched. Bingo. It made a valiant effort to ignore the pun anyway.

"Alright… Perhaps you've something to trade?"

"nope," Sans said, shaking his head. "haven't botany thing to trade."

"Hardy har har," The flower deadpanned, dramatically rolling his eyes with a sigh. "Information then? Maybe tell me why your dog is hanging around the Hegemony lately?"

Did this Papyrus have a little white dog too? Sans hadn't seen any sign of one at the house, though honestly, he'd been a bit preoccupied. He doubted it, and frankly, at this point anything recognizable was to be considered outright suspicious. 

"probably just marking his territory, if i know anything about dogs and hedges," Sans said with a nonchalant shrug.

"Now you're taking your brother's gross jokes too?" It asked, making a face of disgust. "It's HEGEmony, not HEDGEmony! Why is he always saying that?"

Brother. NotPapyrus. Well, that's one mystery solved.

"have you tried asking him to leaf you alone?"

"OH MY GOD YOU ALREADY SAID THAT ONE. Just pay the 50g and LEA- GO!"

"alright, alright. kinda prickly aren't you?" Sans said, dismissing the bone construct to pull the gold from his inventory. Just under half the guy's stash. Might have to skip the fries on dinner later. Not sure how to give the flower the money, he just dropped the coins on the ground. "here you go."

The flower gave a small look of surprise, and Sans caught his mistake. He was probably supposed to haggle. That's just what you did when dealing with a known con artist. The look was quickly replaced with a smile as a dozen thin roots sprouted from the ground, snatching away the coins to disappear under the soil.

"The Hegemony thanks you for your kind donation towards our University Loans," it said, false cheer back to full strength. "Pleasure as always, Captain."

By the time Sans registered the words, the flower was gone, already burrowed into the ground to return to wherever it was nightmares go when they're not bothering him.

He stared after it, weighing the possibility that the flower was kidding. Captain? That had been a joke, right? Pay back for Sans screwing with him? He was still himself, still Sans. That's the way alternate universes worked. What had to go so terribly wrong that the Underground got Sans for a Captain? And where the hell was Undyne?

Plus, he'd heard that Echo flower earlier! It said... That the Captain was coming. He'd been coming.

Well, there were two choices as he saw it. He could either go back, find Undyne's house and figure it out himself… Or he could keep going and leave that as a mystery to solve later. If ever.

Sans wasn't a fan of backtracking. Not when he had a choice anyway. He kept walking.

The path was more straightforward from here, and Sans quickened his pace. Past the flowers, the feeling of eyes on his back had only increased. He began to hear sounds, cries and angry whispers from the ghoulish echo flowers along the waters edge.

Sans tried to tell himself that it was only in his imagination that the hostile intent in the area had spiked. That the caverns were still the same as they had been before. That he was going to be perfectly fine. He wasn't convinced, much to his growing distress.

A shame. Usually he was better at lying to himself than that.

He came across the telescope, and paused a second to look it over. The dye on the eye piece shimmered, giving Sans the distinct impression that it was a bit more harmful than paint. He didn't look through it.

When he passed Onion-San's pool, the water was dark, but he could hear the water moving even if he couldn't see it. It wasn't empty. His imagination helpfully provided him with images of tentacles, reaching up to grab him, pulling him down into the dark, black water… The sound of lapping waves against the piers followed him as he hurried over the bridge.

Step by step the uneasy feeling only grew, and the whispers around him coupled with the malicious atmosphere was beginning to chew his nerves raw. He almost preferred the silence.

When Sans reached the room full of echo flowers, he could have cheered for joy. Even the disturbing purple hue and the terrible sounds they occasionally made couldn't fully crush his growing excitement. 

Finally, the end was in sight. Sans ran past the flowers, and they repeated his footsteps until the cavern rang with the sound of running feet. It didn't matter, he didn't care, the Hotlands bridge was right there-!

"NYAHHHH!" 

A loud cry rang out from a side cavern as he turned the corner, bringing instantly to mind Alphys's anime movies.

Sans was turned halfway towards the sound when the world shuddered. For the briefest instant, everything around him appeared… pixelated. Nothing moved, and neither could he. The world was a low res snapshot. He blinked, and it was gone. Momentum resumed, and Sans found himself staring down a glowing yellow attack flying right towards him!

Pure adrenaline made him duck to the side, and the ax shaped attack sailed past him, barely missing his ribs. He looked up, to where the attack had come from, and his jaw dropped open.

It was Alphys, charging straight at him. Alphys, in full guard armor!

"Hey!" She yelled, "I've been looking everywhere for you!"

In the second it took her to reach him, Sans learned a lot of things. Like how terrifying Alphys looked in armor. And how in this universe, Alphys was incredibly buff. And blind in one eye.

The faceplate was open, letting him see the scars crisscrossing her snout, the worst of which cut up across her left eye. There was no eye patch, just the ragged edges of what had obviously been a devastating wound. 

All in all, she looked a lot like Undyne.

"Why'd you do that?" She asked, skidding to a stop hardly a second away from barreling into him and much closer than he was comfortable with. But it gave him a great view of the monster that had once been his friend. 

They were about the same height, but with all the muscles Alphys was nearly three times his size. Sans hadn't even known it was possible for Alphys to look tough, but she was Intimidating with a capital I. It took everything in him to resist stepping back. 

"why did i do... what?"

"That, thing, " she said, motioning with a hand, her claws twirling in a circle. Big claws. "You didn't attack, or defend, you... Moved."

"dodge?" He asked. 

"Yeah!" She exclaimed with a snap of her claws. "That! Dodge! Why did you do that?"

Sans gave a quick look around the clearing. Was this some sort of trick question?

"because i didn't want you to hit me?" He replied, more question than answer.

If anything, Alphys just looked more confused. Well, it was only fair because he sure as hell was. A moment later her face lit up in a toothy grin that would have rivaled Undyne's on a good day.

"Oh! New tactic!" She exclaimed, showing more enthusiasm in three words than his Alphys would show in a week. "I get it! If you make them take more shots at you, you'll tired them out faster, right?"

"yeah," Sans agreed warily. "something like that."

"Hey, that's pretty crafty! You never know when you might have to make a low HP really count," she said, finally stepping back to slam one scaly fist into the palm of her other claw. "Dodging to make it stretch out as long as you can! A human would never see it coming!"

That was such an Undyne thing to say. Then it hit Sans like a brick to the skull. Alphys didn't just look like Undyne. And sound like Undyne. In this universe, Alphys was Undyne. 

No wonder NotPapyrus hadn't thought much of Alphys's ability to fix the power.

Dimly, other pieces came together. Maple syrup. Tall stool. A personality swapped-

"Though, hey," she said breaking into his thoughts. Her grin dropping to something a little less fierce. "Maybe you should lay off on the intensity of it." 

Alphys raised a hand to his face, and for a second Sans thought she was going to touch his skull. Her claws stopped short, pointing at his eye socket as she examined his face with an intensity that made him want to fidget. "That crack's looking pretty bad. Oh!" 

He saw her one eye widen as she realized something, and he tensed. The dodging had been a character mistake, had she realized he's a fraud? 

"Is that what's got your brother in such a fit?" Alphys asked.

He blinked. "Papyrus?"

"No, your other brother, George," she said shooting him an annoyed look. 

George? Like Georgia, the font? Oh, stars, was there a third, or more-

"Of course I mean Papyrus! Jeez!" Alphys snapped, literally. With her jaws. Shaking her head she continued, "Can you believe it? He actually called me! Said he was worried about you, and blah, blah, blah. As if you didn't always know exactly what you're doing. Papyrus can be such an idiot sometimes."

"Hey!" Sans snapped back at her. "Don't you talk about him like that!"

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah, I remember. He's your brother, you will do as you see fit, how dare I presume, whatever. I don't need another lecture. Besides, he said you were looking for me. What's up, twerp?"

Lecture? One more for the 'figure it out later' pile.

"actually, i need to get to the Lab," he said. 

Which begs the question, if Alphys was here, in Waterfall, who was in the Lab...? Time to take an educated guess. He could always play it off as joke or something if it failed.

"the power is out in town and i need to go see Undyne."

Alphys's face immediately lit up, and Sans nearly sighed in relief. "Why didn't you just say so?" She exclaimed.

"well, you didn't give me much of a chance," Sans pointed out, "seeing how you threw an axe in my skull."

"Hey, it missed didn't it?" She asked, showing off that wide grin again and Sans couldn't resist smiling back.

It was funny, as strange as it was. She seemed so happy, and he like that. His own Alphys never had this kind of… Sans guessed he would call it spunk. He had to admit, it was a good look on her. 

"Yo, twerp! So what are you still doing hanging around here? You got somewhere to be, right? And would you, when you get there, you know, could you..." she trailed off, losing some of the confident air and looking a lot more like, well, like Alphys. "Could you tell the nerd I said hi?"

The nerd. Undyne the nerd. Fit the pattern, but he hadn't been expecting the mental image and laughed outloud. What would she do, suplex the exam table? All the exam tables, at once? Chase children down, screaming, "Time for your medicine, punks!"?

Alphys's scales suddenly flushed pink. "Ah, forget you! Nevermind!" She turned and began to stomp away, tail swinging. "Why don't you go crack your skull on a rock, you bonehead!'

"no, wait! i didn't mean it!" Sans called after her, snickering. While he was still laughing, he hardly sounded sincere, but the joke was just too good!

Despite the armor, Alphys was fast, already vanished into the Waterfall gloom. The nearby echo flowers called softly to each other, footsteps, anime war cries and laughter. It felt like he had a friend here. It was almost nice.

He turned back to the border to Hotlands, feeling lighter than he had in recent memory as he continued forward. It was the home stretch now, he was getting the hang of this, and everything would be fine. 

Sans really hoped he wasn't just getting better at lying to himself.


End file.
